


Cover Up

by AlexSeanchai (EllieMurasaki)



Series: Under Cover(s), the unauthorized sequels [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, Meeting the Parents, playing in another ficcer's world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 18:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/pseuds/AlexSeanchai
Summary: Ladybug takes a bad hit, and Chat Noir has to find somewhere safe for her while he goes to kick the crap out of the akuma. He knows he can trust Marinette; her parents, maybe not so much…An unauthorized sequel to Socchan and Yvi_sama's "Under Cover(s)"; read (or, better, listen to) that first.





	Cover Up

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Under Cover(s)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582414) by [Podfic-Chicklet (Yvi_sama)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvi_sama/pseuds/Podfic-Chicklet), [Socchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socchan/pseuds/Socchan). 



He would never have been able to take that blow in time.

Chat Noir all but flew to his Lady's side: blunt force trauma to her abdomen from the initial impact, more from it propelling her into the wall, inevitable internal injuries, and the way her head had bounced off the brick—definite head injury. _Fuck_. This was _emergency room_ shit, magic healing spandex armor or _no_.

Ladybug could fix it, if Ladybug weren't looking at him with dazed blue eyes and folding limply into his arms.

"HEY UGLY!" shouted a young woman's voice—Juleka, gentle, strong Juleka—and something clattered behind him. He scanned the battlefield: Juleka was throwing chunks of rubble at the akuma, Rose (sweet, kind Rose) at her side. Rose twitched half a glance in Chat's direction. Made a hand motion that might be _shoo, shoo_ if it were bigger. Grabbed a fist-sized lump of concrete and pitched it at the akuma's head.

Chat bolted.

Her pulse was unsteady, her head was lolling, the trickle of blood from the back of her head was not slowing—fuck, this was _so_ not good. Were they being followed? Were they being seen? Where were they even going? It wasn't like he could take her _home_. Who could he trust?

And my, it sure would be nice right about now if anyone had ever trusted _him_ with Rena Rouge and Carapace's civilian identities. To say nothing of where the Miraculouses spent their off days.

Chat paused in a hidden corner on a roof to catch his breath (heaving), check her breathing (shaky), and get his bearings. Ladybug didn't seem to be worsening, thank fuck, and there was nothing in the sights and sounds of the city evening that suggested anyone had seen them since Rose.

They weren't that far from his former collège. Which meant there was a bakery nearby, with a convenient cat flap in the roof and a trustworthy friend just below.

…The attic room was dark: Marinette wasn't _there_.

Well. Fuck.

This was still his best option, though. The skylight wasn't latched; Chat set Ladybug gently on Marinette's bed, taking a moment to brush a strand of damp hair from her eyes, a moment of tenderness he wasn't entirely sure she would consciously allow him. If he were a better person, he wouldn't have done it, but there was still an akuma blasting holes in the fifth arrondissement and two of his friends were playing distraction so he could get Ladybug away. He _couldn't_ care for her as his heart ached to.

He grabbed the nearest sketchbook and a pencil.

> Marinette—
> 
> Sorry to intrude, but this is the safest place I could think of. Ladybug's injured—if she stays transformed and resting, that should do most of the healing work for you. I'll be back as soon as I've kicked akuma ass.
> 
> I'll make this up to you, I promise.
> 
> —Chat Noir

"Take care of her, Tikki," Chat whispered. "My Lady, stay strong."

Now. Back to the fight.

* * *

Chat dropped carefully through the skylight far too long later, an evil Onix plush in hand. The room was still dark and lonely and exactly as he'd left it; Ladybug's tears were mingling with the blood on the pillow and her hands were fisted but that was all the change he could see.

"All right, my Lady," Chat murmured. "Rise and shine." How was he going to wake her without doing more damage? Her pulse hadn't steadied in the least—

Her eyelashes fluttered. "Ch—wh—"

"Ladybug!" Okay, she was somewhere at least nodding acquaintances with awake and coherent. Better than some of the alternatives. "Back with me, LB? I need you to do your yo-yo trick, okay? Now is best, if you can. But if not, it can wait."

"N-nn h'p."

"Yeah," Chat told her, "I'll help." Ever so gently, he lifted her to sit leaning against him; she was biting her lip to muffle her whimpers. He plucked the yo-yo off her waist and put it in her hand. "On three, okay?" If he held her yo-yo hand in one of his, the plush in the other, that should work, right? Wait. First guide _her_ other hand to open the yo-yo for this particular trick. Okay. Now. "One—two—three!"

He tore a hole in the plush with a claw and together they whipped out the yo-yo.

The noise she made bit into his heart, but the weapon snagged the escaping purple butterfly perfectly.

Ladybug caught the yo-yo and twitched her thumb over it, releasing the cleansed insect.

"Bye-bye, little butterfly," murmured Chat. "Still with me, LB?"

"Mm."

"Okay. Awesome." He pitched the offending plush across the room, freeing up his hand to take Ladybug's free one. "Think you can cast a Lucky Charm?"

"Mm?"

"Yeah. Lucky Charm, Miraculous Ladybug, and then it'll stop hurting and you'll be _fine_. Right? Please tell me you're up to this right now, _please_."

She rubbed his palm with her thumb. "Mmhm."

"Okay. On three, right? One—two—three!"

The Lucky Charm didn't fall into their hands so much as it fluttered off the loft. Chat laid her gently back down and dived after it: it was a single sheet of stickers. Okay, whatever. He peeled one off at random, stuck it to the note he'd left Marinette, and clambered back up to Ladybug. "Ready when you are," he told her, putting the rest of the sheet in her hand.

"O-th?"

"Yeah," Chat told her. "On three."

The flood of sparkly ladybugs was never more marvelously beautiful a sight than it was tonight.

"Owwww," Ladybug grumbled, shoving herself into a seated position.

Chat threw his arms around her and hung on for dear life.

"Kitty?" Ladybug asked uncertainly. "Don't—please don't cry—"

He pulled back just far enough that he could glare into those sapphire eyes. "You came _way_ too close to dying back there, LB. This is why you let _me_ take the hits."

Ladybug glared right back. "Now you know how _I_ feel."

Chat buried his face in her shoulder. "Don't do that again. You can fix me but _I can't fix you_."

"Oh, I'll fix you, all right," she muttered. "There's gotta be a TNR operation around here somewhere, right?"

…That was a little more vicious than her usual threats. "Did I do something? I'm sorry, my Lady—"

Ladybug let out a long exhale. "No, no, you're fine." She stroked his back. "Everything's fine. You did brilliantly, minou."

It didn't feel like it.

"…We should get going," Chat said reluctantly. "You're going to lose the spots in a few, and Marinette will want her bed back sooner or later."

She made no move to release him. And he—

There was no way anything short of her own will would induce him to let her go.

They stayed there, breathing together in a silence punctuated at intervals by the warning beeps of her earrings. He closed his eyes. A tingling passed over him, not unlike the fall of his own transformation, and the texture under his claws shifted to simple cloth.

"Go raid the stash, Tikki," Ladybug murmured. "Stay with me till I fall asleep, minou?"

"What about Marinette?"

"Never mind Marinette."

…All right then. "As my Lady wishes."

He'd stay till she was safely in dreamland. Listening to her breathe. Quietly delighting in the steady sound that meant she was still alive beside him…

* * *

"Marinette?" Mme. Cheng's voice was promptly followed by three hollow thumps. "Marinette, we need you in the bakery!"

"Mmmmphrrgh," said the soft warm comfort at Adrien's back. "Wan' _sleeeep_."

He decided to ignore the rising suspicion. "Uh. Ladybug?"

She went rigid behind him. "Chaton?"

"Marinette, I'm coming in!"

"Fuck," whispered Ladybug, sitting up, and dragged the blanket over Adrien's head.

The trap door creaked open. "Hurry up, dear, the line's out the doo-o-o—Marinette. Is there someone else here?"

"Why would you think that?" Ladybug said, her voice far too shrill.

…Judging by the various textures on his skin, sleepy Adrien had ditched his sneakers, jeans, and overshirt at some point after ditching his leather cat suit. Which meant his clothes were definitely scattered around Marinette's room, probably in plain sight.

Yeah, they were fucked.

"Marinette," said Mme. Cheng, half scolding, half disappointed. "What are our rules concerning your romantic exploits?"

Ladybug whimpered.

Okay, fuck a whole lot of _that_. Adrien threw the blanket off and sat up. "Please don't tell my father."

Ladybug squeaked and hid her face in his neck.

" _Please_ ," he repeated to Mme. Cheng. "If he finds out, he'll make sure I never see her again, even from a distance. Please don't tell him."

He found Ladybug's knee under the covers and squeezed it lightly, hoping she could hear all the things he wasn't saying.

She lifted her head. "Give us two minutes, Maman," she said in a defeated sort of way. "We'll be down."

Mme. Cheng regarded them with an unreadable expression. "Two minutes," she said, and descended from sight.

Ladybug slumped against him. "Great," she said sourly. "Perfect. This is _exactly_ how I wanted my morning to go."

Adrien opened his mouth to apologize—for what, he wasn't altogether sure; falling asleep here was probably the least of it?—and gave up, sliding an arm around her waist instead.

"You'd better go get dressed," she told him. "I hope you don't have anywhere else to be today, because you won't be getting there."

He did, in fact, have a photoshoot scheduled, but his phone was definitely in his other jeans. His minders would just have to cope. "Nowhere but by your side."

She—had she just kissed his neck? "Come on, minou." She peeled herself away.

Adrien focused the whole of his attention on descending the ladder from Marinette's bed. He could hear where she was perfectly well, and accordingly he could look for his clothes in places she wasn't—

"You can look," she said tiredly. "I promise you've seen worse."

He snagged his jeans off the floor without looking higher than her knees. "I don't want—"

"Adrien. Look at me."

Marinette had on yesterday's jeans and a plain pink bra, a sight that he immediately committed to memory and promptly resolved not to further consider (yet), and she was holding crumpled black fabric. The blush she wore went clear past her collarbone.

"We have survived worse than my parents," she reminded him.

"True," said Adrien, almost amused, and turned away to step into his jeans.

A light rustling. "Okay!" Marinette said, and reentered his field of view near the trap door, finger-combing her loose hair. "Ready?"

Adrien considered the neon green paw print blazoned across her tee. "Nice shirt."

She smiled weakly. "I thought you'd like it."

They headed downstairs hand in hand. M. Dupain, acting for all the world as though it were any ordinary day, sent Marinette to the front of the bakery to work the register, commandeering Adrien for cleaning tasks in the kitchen. When the rush slowed, he sent Adrien upstairs with instructions to shower and return; when Adrien was coming down, damp-haired, he passed Marinette on her way up, and briefly caught her hand but couldn't catch her eye. Then it was baking prep tasks: M. Dupain drilled Adrien on which ingredients belonged where and on how much of which ones went into the bakery's simplest bread recipe, on how to combine them and why in that manner. (Adrien found he could bullshit his way through a surprising lot of that, but then, what was baking but applied chemistry?) At one point Adrien got shooed out front to eat something and sit down and catch a few glimpses of Marinette; at another, Marinette slipped into the back for her own break. Nobody said anything not directly related to the tasks at hand for hours.

At long last Mme. Cheng flipped the door sign to CLOSED. Adrien silently followed her and Marinette upstairs.

"Let me get you something to drink," Marinette told him, sounding much as weary and wary as he felt himself. "What would you like?"

Adrien snorted. "Poison?"

"Ha ha." Marinette went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of water, handing one to him; he gulped its contents and handed it back. "You're allowed to sit down, you know."

M. Dupain and Mme. Cheng had already claimed the sofa. Adrien considered the battlefield. "I'm good."

"Adrien," said M. Dupain in a level voice. "What are your intentions toward my daughter?"

The honest answer was also kind of cowardly? "I don't know? Ask her!"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Mme. Cheng, sounding merely curious.

He would rather deal with another akuma than have this conversation. "I mean it's her call. Don't get me wrong," Adrien told them, "I will gladly take everything she gives me and wish for more. But I will take nothing she doesn't offer."

Ladybug probably knew this about Chat Noir. But given how long it had taken his confident classmate to stop tripping over her words and act like he was an ordinary human being, no worse than any other and not as bad as Chloé used to be? He wasn't at all sure Marinette knew it about Adrien.

"Last night was an absolute _miracle_ ," Adrien told them all, "and if she never wants me that close to her again, fine. If what she wants from me is someone to beat at Mecha Strike, I am happy to play her every day. If she wants me to take her out for spaghetti, I know this great place downtown. If she wants to marry me, I'll tell Nino he's best man." Neither of her parents' expressions were twitching a micron. "And if she wants me out of her life? I'm already gone. But it's _her call_."

He could hear the hitch in her breathing. His own lungs were heaving and his heart pounding nearly as furiously now as they had when he was carrying her here last night. He didn't move to see the look on her face; he wasn't sure he dared.

The click of glass on granite behind him, and Marinette threw herself at him: her head on his chest, her arms around his neck, her body pressing close to his, and _for fuck's sake_ was this _really_ a good time for him to get a boner?

What could he do but hold on to her?

"I trust you're using protection," said Mme. Cheng.

Adrien leveled a glare at her. "I am doing everything in my power to keep her safe."

"And then some," muttered Marinette.

" _Mari_ ," said Adrien helplessly.

She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. "Now you know how I feel."

Adrien rubbed one hand up and down her lower back, the first part that had hit the wall yesterday. With the other, he cradled the back of her head, feeling the phantom of a bleeding wound.

"Marinette," asked M. Dupain, "why did you think you needed to hide this from us?"

"Who said anything about _thinking_?" Adrien retorted, and flinched when M. Dupain laughed.

"Minou," said Marinette tartly, and turned so she could face her parents and lean against Adrien without leaving his arms. "That's about it, though. We weren't thinking. Or really, _I_ wasn't thinking, and I never told him your rules. That's on me, and I'm sorry."

"I hope someone plans to tell me the rules now," said Adrien daringly.

"Not much to them," Marinette answered. "Mostly 'don't sneak'. And I should have invited you to a family dinner before we got up to anything. The keywords here are honesty, communication, and trust."

Adrien nodded. "I can roll with that." He hesitated. "That said. I stand by _please don't tell my father_."

"Please don't," Marinette echoed.

M. Dupain and Mme. Cheng glanced at each other. "Very well," said Mme. Cheng. "We do not approve of keeping him ignorant of this, but we trust you two know what you're doing."

All the tension left Adrien's body in a rush, and Marinette relaxed against him. On impulse, Adrien pressed a kiss to her hair.

Mme. Cheng smirked. "So, how's the sex?"

Adrien choked, face flaming. Marinette squawked, " _Maman_!"

* * *

Marinette's parents finally left them in peace after dinner, for values of 'peace' that included strong implications that as far as they were concerned, Adrien was entirely welcome to fuck their daughter some more. Adrien didn't figure that was actually in the cards, but nor could he bear to tell her goodbye, so he helped deal with the dishes and then he climbed after her to her room.

Marinette kicked the trap door shut with a vengeance and sank onto the chaise longue, burying her head in her hands. "Tikki?"

"Plagg," called Adrien, sitting down beside her. "Let the mockery commence."

"Yeah, see, you have me confused with someone who cares about your love life," said Plagg, floating out from behind Marinette's sewing machine with Tikki right behind him.

Marinette snorted. Adrien snickered. Marinette giggled. Adrien chortled outright. And then they were hanging on to each other, dying of laughter, overwhelmed by the sheer gale force of _relief_.

Eventually they calmed.

"So I'm gonna throw this out there," said Adrien, not looking at her, "and you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to."

Marinette squeezed his hand. "What's this about?"

Adrien smiled, a little wistfully. "Can we have sex for real now?"

She squeaked.

That kinda sounded like a no. Adrien tried to move away.

Marinette held on. "Give me a minute, Chat," she said, sounding breathless. "I need to process this."

…But that kinda sounded like a yes? "Take all the time you want."

She huffed. "We might still be here next year."

"Why are you so cruel to me, my Lady?"

"Don't make me punch you."

Adrien ran his fingertips up and down her forearm, silently marveling in being able to _touch_. Even just this—they got awfully tactile in combat, always had, but there was a remarkable difference between stolen moments with a layer or two of magic armor separating them and _this_ , having the luxury of patience and the intimacy of skin to skin.

"I'm not sure I believe this is happening," Marinette said. "—Hey, Chaton, I need you looking at me for this conversation."

Adrien let himself look. He'd never seen her so beautiful.

"So," she said. "I don't think I really knew till today that you, Chat, _meant_ any of those terrible pick-up lines you have been throwing at me, Ladybug. And I legitimately have no clue whether you, Adrien, have ever seen me, Marinette, as…well, desirable." She shrugged. "I was crushing on you _so_ hard and obsessing hardcore over every teeny little sign of potential interest you showed me in collège, and when I got over that I might maybe have swung too far the other way."

Adrien started to answer and Marinette put a finger to his lips. "I figured out I was falling for you, Chat, months ago," she continued. "Right after Sunny Daze, actually? And I found your note, heart sticker and all, so I guess that's why you brought me here last night?" He nodded. "But I wasn't sure what to—to _do_ about it that wasn't doomed to backfire horribly given the whole secret identities thing, so I didn't…really do anything?" She brushed a bit of hair back behind his ear. "So. Uh. I might have a _lot_ of fantasies stockpiled here. Um. Your turn."

"I need a moment," Adrien said, aware of his ridiculous grin. "The love of my life just said she fantasizes about _me_."

Marinette elbowed him. "Doofus."

"The doofus you want to _bang_."

She rolled her eyes.

"The doofus you want to make _love_ with."

"Yes, Adrien, keep up."

Adrien caught her gaze and put on his best smolder; he'd honed it with her in mind anyway. "The doofus you want to _fuck_."

"Chat." Her tone was flat, but her eyes were dancing.

"Seriously, LB, can we? Because I am totally on board with that. And anything else you can think of—uh, probably, 'cause there are some corners of AO3 where I just don't wanna go, you know? But, uh." He shrugged. "You're driving this train."

Marinette snickered. "Don't make me drive this thing alone. We'll go _spectacularly_ off the rails." She swallowed and didn't say _Don't make me do any of this alone_. But that was all right; he didn't much want to say it out loud to her either. "Tonight," she said, "let's just cuddle till we fall asleep? And kiss a lot? I mean. Just this is nice." She laid her hand on the hand of Adrien's that was still caressing her forearm. "Just like this. Real slow."

"Yeah," said Adrien. "That sounds good."

"But tomorrow…" She nibbled her lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes, and his heart did a happy _thu-thump_. "I could be…purrsuaded."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Dreamwidth](https://alexseanchai.dreamwidth.org/) and [Tumblr](http://alexseanchai.tumblr.com/).


End file.
